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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27912571">“Never Satisfied” - A Corpse Husband Fan Fiction</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntiSepticLaughs/pseuds/AntiSepticLaughs'>AntiSepticLaughs</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Among Us - Fandom, Corpse - Fandom, Corpse Husband - Fandom, Game - Fandom, Games - Fandom, gaming - Fandom, youtube - Fandom, youtuber</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cat, Cats, Corpse Husband - Freeform, Demon, Evil, Gen, Horror, Jack - Freeform, Possession, Psychological, Psychological Horror, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Rae - Freeform, YouTube, YouTubers - Freeform, Youtuber - Freeform, corpse, corpsehusband - Freeform, felix - Freeform, jacksepticeye - Freeform, pewdiepie - Freeform, sean - Freeform, sykkuno - Freeform, valkyrae - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:07:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,636</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27912571</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntiSepticLaughs/pseuds/AntiSepticLaughs</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I̷ ̷w̷i̷s̷h̷ ̷t̷o̷ ̷w̷a̷n̷t̷ ̷a̷ ̷s̷i̷m̷p̷l̷e̷ ̷l̷i̷f̷e̷ ̷/̷ ̷I̷’̷m̷ ̷m̷a̷d̷ ̷I̷ ̷c̷a̷n̷’̷t̷ ̷b̷e̷ ̷s̷a̷t̷i̷s̷f̷i̷e̷d̷</p><p>Genres: YA, suspense/thriller, psychological, urban fantasy, dark fantasy, horror/paranormal, fiction (if that wasn’t obvious already)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Precontemplation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Quick note before we begin:</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I will be referring to Corpse exclusively using the pronouns he/him and such. This was done to reduce repetitiveness, and also to accentuate a particular scene at the end of this story. It will make sense as you go along.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Also yes everything is censored, I just don't like cursing lmao, so if that's not for you then sorry I guess lmao</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Anyways, enjoy.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>🖤</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>It tasted like charcoal at this point. But, it was better than being tired for days at a time without the ability to sleep. Midnight had passed hours ago, but time never deterred him whenever he had an errand to run.</p><p> </p><p>The crisp, dry, yet soothingly cool air nipped at his cheeks and hands as he exited his car, energy drinks in tow. His fleece-lined hoodie and sweatpants shielded the rest of his body from the temperature as he walked the small concrete path to the entrance of his house. When he got close enough to the front door, the motion-sensor lights blinked on with a soft electric click.</p><p> </p><p>He jumped back and reared his free arm, sharply gasping as he saw what the light revealed from the shadows. A black cat sat on the worn doormat, posture straight with its tail curled around and in front of its paws. The two met eyes, an imposing look from the cat seemingly judging him.</p><p> </p><p>"Uh..." His resonant voice trailed off in nonchalant bewilderment. "Hi?"</p><p> </p><p>The animal returned no mutual reaction.</p><p> </p><p>Somewhat cautiously, he inched the few more steps needed to reach the door and opened it, intending to slip inside without disturbing the cat. It picked itself up anyway and fluidly turned around and entered his house as naturally as if it were its own.</p><p> </p><p>"I... Ok, then," he reacted hesitantly.</p><p> </p><p>He stepped through the door and turned on the lights. The cat had already settled itself on the navy couch to the left of the room. It laid its head down and peered to him again with its signature blasé gaze.</p><p> </p><p>After sighing and accepting his current situation, he b-lined to his room, slipped the bag on the floor, and sat at his desk with one of the drinks in hand. The cracking open of the can seemed to catch the attention of the cat, as a short moment later it ambled into his room and towards his desk. He watched it pause at his chair before gracefully springing into his lap.</p><p> </p><p>"F**k—Well, uh, this is happening now, I guess."</p><p> </p><p>After a couple minutes editing a video, he suddenly realized something that confused him. His finger froze on the mouse as he waited a moment to confirm his suspicion.</p><p> </p><p>His lap was not growing warm from the cat's body heat. He removed his hand from the mouse and stroked the feline's head. It craned its neck back to look at him and quietly yawned before laying down again. He couldn't help it: a smile graced his face.</p><p> </p><p>"You're a pretty one."</p><p> </p><p>After a couple more strokes he returned his hand to his mouse and continued his work. He shook off his previous suspicions, telling himself he was tripping, though a tiny part of his conscious remained acutely aware of what the cat was doing at any time, from every stretch to every yawn.</p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>2:35 a.m.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>At last, the black cat leapt from his lap. It stretched and released a silent yawn before strutting to his bed behind them. He turned his head and watched as it hopped utop the bed, sat down, and meowed at him.</p><p> </p><p>"You can use it, bro. I won't be for a while." He flashed a small, quick smile before turning back around.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Mrow.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Mrow.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Mrow.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Mrow.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Shut the f**k up, man," he commanded, still facing his desktop.</p><p> </p><p>The cat seemed to obey. It hopped off the bed and slipped out of the room. He watched it leave out of the corner of his eye.</p><p> </p><p>"F**kin' weird," he thought.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <em>Preview of chapter two: Contemplation</em> </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>The cat stood where he had been, looking down at him. Its eyes glowed a feline green in the darkness.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"F**king..." He shakily muttered.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Contemplation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Against his own will, his mind started wandering, pondering what kind of owners the cat had that would train it to do something like that. </p><p> </p><p>“<em>Probably doesn’t like sleeping alone</em>,” he concluded.</p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>5:50 a.m.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>From wherever it had gone hours prior, the cat re-emerged into the bedroom and once again made its way onto the bed and meowed to his current landlord. </p><p> </p><p>“Ugh, f**k. Not again.”</p><p> </p><p>He spun around in his chair and faced the animal, propping his head up on his right hand. </p><p> </p><p>“I mean, I don’t know what to tell you, bro—I barely sleep.”</p><p> </p><p>The cat blinked. </p><p> </p><p>He rolled his eyes and began to return to his work but stopped. Sure, he had immense problems sleeping—absolutely. But he had never done it with a pet before. Tons of people fall asleep better with a pet by their side, maybe he could try it this once. </p><p> </p><p>After a long, dragged-out moment of debating if it was even worth trying, he conceded and clicked away at the computer to shut it off. He stood up and stretched, heaving a slow, deep sigh, before walking to the left side of the bed. The cat took a few steps to the opposite side and curled up into a void-reminiscent ball. </p><p> </p><p>He sat upon the bed and grabbed something off his nightstand. The container opened with a pop, and he shook two pills into his hand and flung them into his mouth. </p><p> </p><p>“<em>Will the energy drinks f**k with these,</em>” he thought. “<em>Probably, but who gives a sh*t?</em>”</p><p> </p><p>He set the prescribed sleeping pills back in their original place and settled into bed. The cat smacked its mouth a couple times and yawned. </p><p> </p><p>The quiet ambiance (minus the drone of the air conditioning unit) made him feel at ease, but also unsettled. He believed it would help him fall asleep, but it also made him feel pressure if he could not: if he couldn’t fall asleep with a quiet atmosphere, how long would it be until he would get the chance to sleep next?</p><p> </p><p>This anxious thought and others raced incessantly in his head, occupying his thoughts and any attempt at concentration on sleep he had. He tried focusing on the cat, remembering why he tried to sleep in the first place. Its rhythmic, delicate breathing sounded comforting in a small way, so he tried to mimic it. </p><p> </p><p>He lost track of time. Five minutes could have passed, it could have been thirty minutes—he could not say. Either way, he still was not asleep. His thoughts had overtaken the sounds of the cat long ago, he estimated, so he could not hear anything quieter than a knock on a door. </p><p> </p><p>Something touched him, and before he could physically react, he felt significant weight pounce on his back. He grunted fearfully and sporadically kicked under the sheets, retracting his arms to his chest. As he attempted to gain distance from whatever it was, he rolled over too far and fell off the bed, his head barely missing ramming into the side of the nightstand. He hesitated in pain for a moment before shaking his head and pushing himself up to see what had touched him. </p><p> </p><p>The cat stood where he had been, looking down at him. Its eyes glowed a feline green in the darkness. </p><p> </p><p>“F**king…” He shakily muttered. </p><p> </p><p>He could say no more, out of surprise and anger. After taking a moment to collect himself he stood up and snatched the cat under its stomach. He left the bedroom-slash-office and headed for the front door. </p><p> </p><p>“I tried it, I f**king hated it,” he ranted to himself, “‘m never doing it again.” </p><p> </p><p>The cool night air rushed inside when he opened the front door. The cat gingerly landed on its paws as he swung it out of the house and shut the door. Once he locked it he shuffled back to his room, his breaths heavy and faintly quivery. </p><p> </p><p>When he closed his bedroom door behind him, the adrenaline began to fade away, leaving him more tired and mentally fatigued than he was before. This is good. </p><p> </p><p>He nestled back into his bed, feeling a sense of relief that he was alone again. </p><p> </p><p>“<em>Guess pets don’t work for me,</em>” he thought. </p><p> </p><p>The incident had scared away his thoughts, leaving his mind blank: ideal for an insomniac trying to sleep. He started the slow breathing exercises that he had heard helped relax the body and aid in sleeping. </p><p> </p><p>An indefinite amount of time passed, and he finally drifted to sleep. </p><p> </p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>?:?? a.m.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>The moonlight shone down on the living room carpet through the glass panel at the top of the front door. Suddenly, the light blinked away like a lightbulb turned off. A purple and black garbled specter replaced the light from the outside. It filtered through the bottom of the door until it was all inside. Light flooded in again as the mass gathered itself into a large<b>, </b>abstract being of aura. Angular glowing white eyes flicked open on its undeterminable face. </p><p> </p><p>The entity noiselessly drifted in the direction of the bedroom. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>~</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Remember to bookmark this if you enjoyed and want to see more! Comments and all that jazz are very much appreciated, I love interacting with y’all!</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Preparation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He was in a dark room. No—not “dark” so much as “empty.” Empty of color, atmosphere, even air, it seemed. </p><p> </p><p>An unremarkable desk stood a short distance in front of him. Had it been there the whole time or had it just appeared, he could not tell. Atop it was his computer setup and desk lamp, positioned in their normal fashion. A quick sweep of the room proved that nothing of importance was there besides the desk, so he casually, albeit apprehensively approached it. </p><p> </p><p>Discord flashed upon the previously black screen, though he could not make out any words; it was like he had lost the ability to read. Suddenly, three quick audio alerts pinged from the application: people had joined a voice chat. </p><p> </p><p>“I’ve really only been tolerating him this whole time, honestly,” a voice spoke. It sounded familiar: it was intrinsically innocent and soft-spoken, almost like a fictional character. </p><p> </p><p>Another voice curtly scoffed. “Yeah, no kiddin’.” This one stood in stark comparison to the previous, with its loud nature and strong European accent. “His personality’s ok, but I don’t see how anyone can actually, like, be friends with him.”</p><p> </p><p>“Exactly,” the third, Swedish voice joined in, “He’s more withdrawn than everyone else, and his voice is a mood-killer.”</p><p> </p><p>After that statement he figured out the subject the voices were discussing: him. </p><p> </p><p>This realization jump-started overwhelming emotions and thoughts in no more than an instant. A growing sense of doom penetrated his chest, and the voice chat’s words grew foggy and jumbled to his ears. He did not know when he had sunk to the ground onto his knees—he only realized it when one line of the conversation powered over his distress and brought him back:</p><p> </p><p>“<span class="u"> <em> Did you hear that, #####? </em> </span>”</p><p> </p><p>His head shot up, facing the computer. Tears he did not realize had formed in his eyes streamed down his face as he drew a deep trembling breath. </p><p> </p><p>“I… I never told you my name,” he gruffly croaked, sharply inhaling from his nose. </p><p> </p><p>“You have no real bearings in the gaming or music industries,” the soft voice continued. </p><p> </p><p>“And you sure as hell aren’t doing us any favors,” the Swedish one remarked. </p><p> </p><p>The voices went silent. It was almost worse than when they were tearing him down where it hurt most. His hearing blurred from anguish and his hands began shaking as he lowered his head in defeat. </p><p> </p><p>“Turn it off,” the loudest voice commanded. </p><p> </p><p>“Just turn it off,” the soft one joined. </p><p> </p><p>“Turn it off,” the final voice serenely affirmed. </p><p> </p><p>They chanted the demand, growing louder and more hostile until all of them were deafeningly shouting, nearly shorting out the meager computer speakers. </p><p> </p><p>Against his will he brought one leg out, keeping one knee on the ground. He grabbed the top of the desk chair and pulled his shaking body up to a standing position. His right hand located the mouse and shakily swerved the cursor to the “X” in the top-left corner of the screen. He winced his teary eyes shut and clicked the mouse. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> 6:42 a.m. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>His eyes shot open and he felt the urge to take a huge gasp of air, but found that he could not. Instead, his breathing felt controlled, subconscious as it always is but somehow that it was not of his usual pace. His heart pounded violently in his chest. What he could move, though, was his eyes. His vision darted so quickly around the room that everything looked even more blurry. After a long moment he slowed his eyes, though the significant weight on his chest remained, even seeming to be getting worse.</p><p> </p><p>Once his vision mostly focused, he finally noticed something to his left: a hulking indeterminable mass of purple and black hovering in front of his bedroom door.</p><p>
  <em>~</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Remember to bookmark this if you enjoyed and want to see more! Comments and all that jazz are very much appreciated, I love interacting with y’all!</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Action</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What the f**k is that</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he wanted to ask but found he could not move his mouth. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>What the f**k, what the actual f**k,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” he manically repeated. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The shifting, foreboding shape did not move. Its glowing white eyes penetrated his soul. He at last drew a conclusion after several agonizing seconds. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, this is f**king sleep paralysis, isn’t it? And that’s my… f**kin’ demon, or whatever.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite his overshadowed satisfaction with this deduction, physiologically, he was still petrified by the circumstance as a whole. A layer of sweat seeped from his forehead and his heart pounded uncontrollably, his mouth running dry in terror of what could come. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, the creature contorted its incorporeal mass and abstractly walked—more akin to a smoke billowing across a table—towards him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>“</strong>
  <b>One-thousand two hundred seconds has rarely failed me before,</b>
  <span><strong>”</strong> it spoke in a gut-wrenching, sonorous, inhuman voice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What the absolute f**k?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He characteristically reacted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>“</strong>
  <b>I even waited another nine-hundred for you, taking into account your… </b>
  <b>
    <em>condition</em>
  </b>
  <b>,</b>
  <span><strong>”</strong> it advanced, <strong>“</strong></span>
  <b>But it appears to me that you have it even </b>
  <b>
    <em>worse</em>
  </b>
  <b> than others with your indisposition.</b>
  <strong>”</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>My… insomnia? Is this some bat-sh*t subconscious personification?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In a split-second moment of clarity, an unsettling realization pierced his soul: </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>That f**king </span>
  </em>
  <span>cat</span>
  <em>
    <span>...</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” He managed to mutter over his intense struggle. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If this thing could smile, he was sure that’s what it was doing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>“</strong>
  <b>It is funny how one among those with the most anguish, self-loathing, and feelings of inadequacy I have come across sounds so similar to our kind. Or, perhaps it is not a coincidence.</b>
  <strong>”</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Please, someone,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” he pleaded within, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>what the hell is going on?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>“</strong>
  <b>...Though, it will be very fitting soon.</b>
  <strong>”</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had never fully understood the saying of the heart skipping a beat until that very moment. The aura again drew closer to him, and as hard as he pleaded and strained, he could not force so much as a finger to move. All he could do was watch with blurry, shaky vision as the menace glided through the air to his bedside. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When it was standing so close that he could reach his arm out and touch it, the being morphed. Its smoke-like purple and black form hypnotically condensed itself into its center before most of the mass snaked off in several directions. When it finished, it vaguely resembled a garbled silhouette of a tall human, with two outlying details: below its striking eyes now shelved a row of long, narrow, serrated yellow fangs, flipping vertical orientation every other (seemingly endless) tooth; and protruding from its ghastly head were two long, gnarled ears, like those of a demonic purple rabbit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The creature spared no words before rearing its imitation arm and plunging it into his chest. Instantly, the area bloomed a neon purple glow. He screamed and convulsed in agony, his chest cavity burning beyond comprehension. As its arm sank deeper, the mass at its head and feet filtered through the arm until it completely disappeared, along with the glow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At last a hand twitched awake, and the rest of his appendages followed. He bolted up, swinging his legs over the side of his bed, and clutched his chest, panting erratically through grunts of pain. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the </span>
  <em>
    <span>f**k</span>
  </em>
  <span> was that? What the </span>
  <em>
    <span>f**k</span>
  </em>
  <span>, what the </span>
  <em>
    <span>f**k</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he madly chanted, voice quivering and spittle flying with each consonant.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Was that some f**ked-up sleep paralysis sh*t?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He thought, attempting to rationalize what little could be rationalized of the events that unfolded just seconds prior.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He would not wait long to have his answer, as all of a sudden his right arm slammed onto his nightstand and grabbed the pocketknife that he stored there in case of emergencies. If not for his instincts, the blade that now hovered mere inches in front of his right eye would have made one with his skull. His left arm trembled as it squeezed his right wrist, feeling adrenaline pump through his veins. But he also felt something else. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It felt like a literal, physical rendition of imposter syndrome: the right side of his body moved and twitched in an unhuman fashion. It dawned upon him that the very-real-demon’s motive was sabotage from within. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing?” He hoarsely barked, his clenched jaw and vocal chords straining almost as hard as his arms. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>“</strong>
  <b>I am giving you what you have begged for for years. Accept it and this will be over quickly.</b>
  <strong>”</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The knife jerkily inched closer to his eye every second.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>He roared and thrust his right arm away, slitting the tip of his cheek in the process. He sharply gasped and </span>straightened himself<span> up, bringing his left hand to the injury. His right hand clenched into a fist and bashed the right side of his face, knocking him to the ground. </span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ugh…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before he could lift his head up, the demon grasped his neck and squeezed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please… stop,” he choked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>“</strong>
  <b>Is this not what you wanted? Is this not what you have contemplated—perhaps even </b>
  <b>
    <em>attempted</em>
  </b>
  <b> times before—for years of your life? </b>
  <b>
    <em>Release?</em>
  </b>
  <strong>” </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not… like this…” The room started growing blurry as he felt the air becoming thin and scarce. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The inner burning continued permeating through his body, eking its way to the left side. In the end he was powerless to his tormentor, as his left shoulder burned numb, and then his arm, followed by his hand and every one of his fingers. It raised him to his knees and with his free hand reached for the pocketknife. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please…” He huskily whispered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>“</strong>
  <b>Return to the earth.</b>
  <strong>”</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It flicked the blade open and turned it around.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Just let me live…</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The vision in his right eye erupted white. He dropped limp to the ground. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
  <span>~<br/><br/></span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Remember to bookmark this if you enjoyed and want to see more! Comments and all that jazz are appreciated, I love interacting with y’all!</span>
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</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Maintenance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>A soft light emerged in the darkness, blurry around the edges. It abstractly blossomed until vague shapes formed, and a few seconds later they focused a little into the shapes of his furniture.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His eyes shot open and he bolted up, coughing and gasping for air. He had been on the ground, laying on his right side. As his nerves and consciousness groggily returned to him, so did the immense feeling of pins-and-needles overwhelming his arms. He unsteadily sat up and shook his arms about a few times. Details of previous events started returning in small waves, and the more he recalled, the more pain his body was alerted to. Most prominent was his right eye, which seemed to be in stable condition, when noted that he was not screaming in agony at the moment. But another pain stuck out to him even more than his eye: save for a small space around the injured eye, his face seemed to be burning from within—similar to how it felt when the demon was controlling him, but somehow now less menacing and imminently harmful. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The room was still quite hazy, but he could make out his desk to the right, the gaping maw of his open bedroom door in front of him, and the light seeping through the gaps of the bathroom door down the hall. He heaved himself forward onto his knee, but paused when he noticed his vision. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Everything had a stark red-and-blue aura around it, and all the colors had a smoky grey tinge. His focus phased in and out involuntarily, nauseating him. He winced at the filter, but forced himself to move. He needed to see. He needed to know.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once he hoisted himself to his feet, he shifted his weight to the wall next to the door and used it as a crutch to shuffle his way to the bathroom. When he made it, he violently fumbled for the handle in the dark and burst the door open. The counter caught his near-fall. His arms and most of his body shook intensely, and he was almost out of breath. Part of him did not want to look into the mirror, for fear of what disturbing, unholy image he may find. But he flicked his eyes up and looked forward.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was as if a representative of hell had scoured the darkest regions of his worst nightmares and culminated them into visual form. His face, save for the immediate area around his right eye, was a deep, alien aubergine with a smooth, porous, angular texture. The glowing white eyes he had so cataclysmically dreaded had incorporated into his left eye, sparing his disturbingly bloodshot, grey-irised horror of a right eye. The terrifying, hellish teeth took the place of his mouth, spanning across at least three times the area of a human mouth. Lastly, one of the demon’s signature purple ears plunged through the left side of  his disheveled, sweaty, curly hair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>“You decided to live, after all,”</b>
  <span> a familiar voice echoed in his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He raspily yelled and jolted back, slamming his head against the wall. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>“Quiet, you speck. I can no longer do you any direct physical harm.”</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After rubbing his head for a moment he clenched his fists and struck the counter with, admittedly, less force than he wished to invoke. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you,” he demanded in a blood-curdling voice unlike his own through the demon’s mouth. After a quick succession of trial and error he shakily heaved himself up again and made eye contact in the mirror—with himself to the right, and the </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing</span>
  </em>
  <span> on the left.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <b>I am but one of innumerable spawns that result from the unholy dregs of your underworld. I have roamed your world for hundreds of generations, garnering hundreds of thousands of decrepit souls who had given up hope long before I came along. They have all let me in with little resistance—but </b>
  <b>
    <em>you</em>
  </b>
  <b>. In the most pivotal moment, you recalled something important to you, something a substantial enough part of you thought was worth living for. Because of this, the ritual was subverted and failed. I was forced to heal your eye so that we did not bleed out.”</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A shiver ran down his spine at the word “we”.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>“You have discorporated me,”</b>
  <span> it growled slowly, seethingly. </span>
  <b>“That, I will not forgive.”</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His heart quaked with a super-worldly sense of impending doom, and his bones became hollow with terror.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>“Our beings have become one, and I will make unmistakably sure that what remains of your insignificant life be appended with suffering and desolation, the equivalent of hundreds of generations of miserable lowlifes who had nothing to look forward to but the inevitable embrace of their cold, dead end. You’d better pray that whatever hollow, misguided comfort you thought good enough to live for can last you until the end of your pitiful, lonely life. You shall live the rest of your days a scant, trifling husk; you will never again recall a time where you did not wish you seized the means to your bitter end that I graciously extended to you. I will make you believe you are the cause for this pathetic world’s impotence. You are my </b>
  <b>
    <em>corpse</em>
  </b>
  <b>.”</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, the creature’s voice ceased. After it did, the inhuman deformations of his face receded into themselves with an unsettling gargle until they completely disappeared. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Within moments he was himself again. A shaken, scarred man, but himself nonetheless. He may look normal again, but every fiber of his being knew that </span>
  <em>
    <span>it</span>
  </em>
  <span> was not done with him. It would never stop tormenting him until the end of his days, no matter how pleasant he may try to make them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Still in a daze from the trauma, he extended a weak left arm to the bathroom cabinet and opened it, grabbing a half-empty bottle of isopropyl alcohol. He sloshed a generous amount onto a nearby hand towel (not knowing or caring if it was clean) and dabbed around his right eye. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A couple painful minutes later, after managing to keep most of the alcohol out of his eye, he finished. Using his left eye he scanned the counter for one of his face masks. He grabbed one and stretched one side of its elastic strings over his forehead and the other side below and behind his ear until they met, where he tied them in an ugly knot, catching a few strands of hair in it. He tugged around at it until the mask completely covered his right eye. Unaware of it until he finally decided to leave the bathroom, he stood staring at the reflection of the makeshift eyepatch for what could have been several minutes or a few seconds. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Every shivering step he took felt like he had cannonballs chained to each ankle. He mindlessly gazed at the floor leading back to his bedroom. There were thin scratches parallel to each other, eye-level on the wall, in steady increments along the route to the bathroom. He traced his fingers over them and followed them for a few steps. When his ajar door was less than a yard away, he pulled his eyes from the wall and caught something that stopped him in his tracks, both physically and mentally.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just inches from the foot of his bed laid a huge, deep crimson stain that looked closer to black in the near non-existent lighting pouring in from the bathroom. The stain was oval-shaped with a sliver of one side cut off, presumably where the blood flow from his eye could not reach when he lain on the floor. On top of his bed, the cover sheet and blanket retained the messy evidence of his first struggle with the monster. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It took him several seconds to remember to blink. He inhaled slowly and deeply, saving himself from the sudden movement of a normal sigh, and exhaled in a similar fashion. He lowered his right hand on the wall and shakily pushed himself off of it so he was now standing on his own two feet. Eyes locked on the stain, he took the last steps to reach his bedroom and closed the door behind him with a squeak and a click.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>~</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Remember to bookmark this if you enjoyed, and let me know what you thought and if you want to see more writing like this! I enjoyed writing this, so thank you for reading!</em>
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